Last Cup Before They Go
by Random Guise
Summary: Tom Barnaby is accustomed to spending days uncovering the person behind a murder. This day it seems like things just might work out differently. Rated for discussion of possible dead bodies. I don't own these characters, and I've never been to England much less Midsomer County.


Last Cup Before They Go

"Chief Inspector Barnaby?"

Causton CID's finest, DCI Tom Barnaby looked up from his desk. "I am. And you are?"

The nervous man held on to the chair across from the desk for support. "Colin Seaspech. May I speak with you?"

Tom stood and waved to the chair. "Certainly, but perhaps it's best if you sit down. Would you like a cup of tea or perhaps some coffee?"

Colin's hand flew up and knocked over a cup containing pens and pencils as he responded. "No, no, no, no thank you. Sorry, let me get those..."

"It's quite alright, Mr. Seaspech. Perhaps if you took a few deep breaths you'll feel better." Tom had seen a few people like this before in the station; usually they were worried they had done something terribly wrong like park in the wrong spot or not paid their taxes.

Colin took the offered advice and sat and breathed deeply for a moment. "Thank you, that is better."

"Ta. Now what can I do for you Mr. Seaspech?"

Some of the nervousness returned, but Colin pressed on. "I'm afraid I have a confession to make, so I'm turning myself in."

Here it was. "And what terrible thing have you done, Mr. Seaspech? If it's a licensing issue you'll have to go to another department I'm afraid."

"Oh, it's much worse than that. I've killed someone. Well, two someones actually."

...

It had been Tom's experience that those who confessed to the crime of murder invariably didn't do it, while those who denied the accusation often were guilty. If not of the actual murder, then some other past deed that was unearthed during the investigation. No murders had been reported in the last week, and no mysterious disappearances of citizens had come to light. Still, he had to hear out the man before he could consider dismissing him. "I see. You'll have to excuse me Mr. Seaspech, but I'm not familiar with the case you've just confessed to."

"I suppose they haven't found the bodies yet" Colin went on, after recovering from the lack of alarm in the detective's manner. "I wasn't planning on killing them mind you; I even avoided them as much as possible. You'll keep that in mind, won't you?"

"Of course" Tom assured him. "We hold those who plan these things in our highest contempt. If it was an accident, we'll take that into account."

"It wasn't an accident; I did kill them. I just said I wasn't _planning_ on it. You'll find the bodies in Chancy's Woods."

"Just north of Midsomer-Hutch, isn't it?"

"Right. I actually live in Midsomer-Hutch, and I sometimes hike through the woods for a relaxing respite."

"You find killing people there relaxing?"

"No! Certainly not; maybe I should back up and fill you in on how things happened."

"That is a very good idea. Let me send an officer to check some things while we talk." Tom motioned DS Gavin Troy over and asked him to run Colin Seaspech for history, and afterwards to get a PC and have a look in the woods near the village. Troy hurried off on what he figured was a wild goose hunt just to keep him busy, and Tom turned his attention back to Colin. "Let's have that story now. We've got plenty of time, so let's have all the details."

"It started out four years ago" Colin began. "I was living in London at The Cobbleton. Have you heard of it?"

"Just barely" Tom admitted. "It's a large apartment building as I remember, but that's about it."

"It is. Middle of the road and not too posh, but I had been living there for a couple of years and was fairly happy with it. Then one night there was a knock on my door; I wasn't expecting anyone and didn't really know anyone else in the building but I answered the door. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen was at the door; elegant, charming, and asking if I had any coffee she could borrow to serve to her party guests. When I apologized and said I didn't drink coffee, she quickly made her excuses and left. I must have stood for 10 minutes looking at the closed door while I could still smell her perfume. It was a bit later I saw their party from my rear window; I could see across to the other wing and on the same floor there she was on the balcony. She apparently found some coffee as she and the guests were drinking some."

"An after meal coffee can be quite enjoyable, unless my wife is making it. Joyce always manages to make something that doesn't quite taste like coffee but reminds you of it. I've seen the tin myself, so I know she isn't just using dirt from the garden" Tom said with a grimace. "The only good thing is that it seems to help digest her cooking efforts."

"Chief Inspector, it isn't very nice to speak of you wife so" chastised Colin.

"Don't get me wrong, Mr. Seaspech; my wife is an outstanding partner and a wonderful mother. But if she opened a bed and breakfast I'm afraid the customers would sneak off before the morning meal."

Just then Troy came in and handed Tom a printout. "I'm off to the woods now; I'll call in with a report after we've looked around."

"Very good; off you go. Try not to have need of a tow service again, eh Troy?" Tom said as he bid him farewell before turning back to Colin. "Now Mr. Seaspech, where were we? Oh yes, you were _spying_ on their dinner party" he said with just a bit of a tease.

"Hardly. I didn't want to seem obvious and it really wasn't my affair. But I made it a point to have reason to pass down her hall several times during the next week on various errands and found out her name was Alexandra Maitland and she was a feature editor for a London monthly magazine. You might write that down for your records."

Tom had been listening while scanning the printout. Mr. Seaspech seemed to be a model citizen with not so much as a complaint against him. "I'll remember. So what happened after you started _stalking_ her?"

"Please, I wasn't stalking her; I admit was trying to get to know her better. Well, the next week I happened to be in the hallway that runs outside my apartment when she turns the corner and starts walking toward me. She stopped next door to where I live and struck up a conversation with the man that lives there; I was able to overhear that it was he who she ended up borrowing the coffee from the night of the party, and she was returning a jar of the stuff. His name is Matthew Prescott, and he's an art dealer of some sort."

"I see. Go on."

"Well, it ended up turning into a game as they found excuses to drop in on each other as time went on. Always 'coffee this' and 'coffee that', as if drinking their particular brand caused them to be more sophisticated or cultured than they were before. I got tired very quickly of 'Platinum Blend Drinker's Choice' being mentioned like it was a commercial and it was really quite sickening how they played so coy with each other. And when my neighbor started entertaining her at his place...well, they weren't very quiet if you know what I mean."

"The imagination boggles; my DS has any number of colorful euphemisms for it. So what did you do?"

"What else could I do? She wasn't interested in me but I always seemed to bump into them as they'd discuss his trips to New York or her trip to Milan and always the coffee that was or wasn't available; I finally had to move out before I went crazy. I'm an inventor, so I packed up my designs and moved out to Midsomer-Hutch and got away from it all."

"It's a nice village, peaceful and bucolic. Joyce and I have been there a few times. That sounds like you did the smart thing. But there is this small matter you've brought to me today…" Tom trailed off.

"Oh yes. Well, I settled in there and have been so for almost three years now. You're right; it is peaceful and very unlike London. I have a cottage with a small attached shop where I do my work. Then about a month ago there was an art showing at the museum."

"'Modern Art in Rural Settings' I think it was called" Tom remembered. "My daughter Cully mentioned some of her artistic friends were involved. Fortunately a case kept me away with an excuse not to go."

"I shouldn't have gone" Colin continued. "While I'm looking at some of the work I had the misfortune of hearing some familiar voices discussing the works. It was my old neighbors in the flesh, discussing how some of the art could have been improved by putting a coffee cup into it, or using a different shade like the rich creamy…" he said before stopping in disgust. "I departed as quickly as possible and didn't leave my home for almost a week. The next weekend I was at the old church looking up some birth records when who should I find _again_ but the same two, interviewing the Bishop for a feature article for her magazine. When they offered him some of their coffee _which they just happened to bring along_ I almost got sick as I rushed out. I was determined then to stay home on weekends and only venture out during the week."

"So far you've handled the situation with extraordinary restraint" Tom observed.

"I think so; above and beyond what the average person could or should. That was a week and a half ago. Today, I decided to take a hike in the woods to unwind. I'm working on a solar-powered kettle for making tea while you're away from an outlet, so I took that along with my lunch. After setting up my spot I walked off to pick up a towel I had dropped a few minutes prior; when I returned THEY were at my spot."

"And so you killed them."

"NO! I'm not a barbarian, Chief Inspector. I certainly wasn't going to abandon my spot and my items, so I did the civilized thing; I offered them tea and biscuits while I showed them my invention. I only had two cups, but it seemed the decent thing to do."

"Praiseworthy even."

"They sat on my blanket while I demonstrated the kettle. I was behind them retrieving the base unit and kettle from a small sunny patch; it holds the rechargeable battery that powers the heater in the bottom of the kettle. It was then that they said that they would rather have coffee, and of course pulled out a jar from their pockets."

"So then you killed them."

"Chief Inspector please! I was brought up properly, so with stiff upper lip I detached the kettle from the base and handed the kettle with the hot water to them. It was while they were bent over measuring the coffee that they mentioned how great it would be when they moved there and hoped the shops sold _you know what_ and said they wanted a last cup before they go. I'm afraid I blacked out for a moment then."

"Only to come to your senses standing over the bodies?"

"Quite. With the heavy charging unit in my hand and the back of their heads bashed I can only assume I killed them. I left everything and came here immediately."

"That was a fine thing to do, Mr. Seaspech. Not the killing part of course, but turning yourself in. My job would be a lot easier if more did the same."

"Aren't you going to arrest me now?" Colin asked.

"I'd love to, but there is a slight problem; we need a crime to charge you with first. That's what I sent Sergeant Troy out to investigate; he should be reporting in any time now."

"I'm only parked in a one hour zone. I don't want to get a parking ticket or a wheel clamp put on my car" Colin said as he started to get fidgety.

"Don't worry about that, this is official business you're on. Now while we wait, what other inventions have you worked on?" Tom asked.

"This and that, nothing that you would have seen yet. You see, the trick to inventing is coming up with something that hasn't been made yet BUT you can convince customers that they've just barely managed to make do without it all their lives…"

They were interrupted by the phone. "Hello? Yes Troy. Made it safely, did you? Hmm hmmm. That's right. Two, yes. There should be a heavy base unit for the kettle around; don't touch it. Get Doctor Bullard out there with his team. Bye."

Tom hung up the phone. "Good news Mr. Seaspech; we have a crime to charge you with now."

Colin was noticeably relieved. "Good. Cuff me or whatever you do."

"We can be more genteel than that when possible. I'll walk you down to the booking desk first, and we'll go from there; they have to whole procedure down pretty well and we'll do an official interview and arrange representation and all the little details. We'll get your keys and take care of your vehicle too; they may want to take a look at it later. Shall we go?" Tom said as he stood and gestured toward the door.

"Thank you Chief Inspector. It's an honor to be handled by such professionals."

"And thank you for coming in so early, Mr. Seaspech. I'll get home ahead of my normal routine tonight. Hopefully early enough so I can convince Joyce to go out for dinner" he said with his mouth watering at the thought of eating someone else's cooking.

The End

* * *

 **I haven't seen every Tom Barnaby episode of Midsomer Murders, but most of them. It was a running joke about his wife Joyce's cooking. Since almost every episode needed at least two murders and an odd means of death, I saw an opportunity to accommodate the pattern with this story. What doesn't fit the pattern is this was basically a confessional story in order to shorten it to a quick one-shot. Tom always seemed to handle situations with decorum and politeness, even when working with gentry that showed contempt for his perceived lower station.  
**

 **The Gold Blend/Taster's Choice commercial series for Nescafe's instant coffee was highly successful both in effectiveness at moving product and being entertaining. They even spawned an official novel and music CDs. People actually waited in the UK and US for the next commercial to come out to see what happened with the couple. Click on the book cover art for a picture of _them_ , or you can find examples of the commercial series on video sites. It was while watching them again that I was struck with the idea that there must have been some somebody who didn't like them...  
**


End file.
